Submerged

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Submerged Page 13

by Alton Gansky


  “I’ve got more than doubts,” Carl said. “I’m not leaving until I find the truth. There’s a man missing up here, and I intend to find him.”

  “Missing?” Perry asked.

  Carl explained about the missing fisherman, Matthew Barrett. “I’ve got a thing about unfinished business.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Janet said. “Am I the only person with a brain here? I’ve been put on the ground twice in two days and been forced to look down the nasty end of an M16. Going back there is suicide.”

  “I think you both should go home,” Perry advised. “You stand to lose your jobs.”

  “Not gonna happen, Sachs,” Carl said. “If anyone is going home, it’s going to be you and your crew—and Janet, of course.”

  “We can’t leave,” Perry said. “This is more than curiosity. It’s . . . personal.”

  Carl lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘personal’?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it,” Perry said. “I’m not sure I believe in the connection.”

  Carl studied Perry, and Perry, Carl. Perry admired the deputy. He was smaller than most cops, but his heart was big and his courage boundless. Perry felt a link.

  “I want to find a missing man and learn what’s going on around that lake,” Carl said. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “I want to save a life.” Perry offered no more.

  “And all of you are here to help him, is that it?”

  “You got it,” Jack said.

  Carl looked at each man, then his eyes settled on Zeisler. “No offense meant, Pops, but aren’t you a little old to be involved with all this? I don’t recall seeing you in all the hubbub.”

  “My name is Dr. Victor Zeisler, and I was in the car during your tea party. And, by the way, I take exception to being called old and being referred to as ‘Pops.’ For your information, Deputy, I was here before the lake was.”

  “He has information we need. Bringing him was part of the deal,” Perry said.

  Carl smiled. “Understood . . . Maybe these things are related.” He appeared thoughtful. “We could work together. I was brought up near here. No one knows these mountains like me.”

  “A guide would be good,” Gleason said. “He’s a trained officer. I say any help is worth taking.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Janet shook her head. “There must be something in the air, because you’ve all lost your minds.”

  “You came back,” Carl pointed out.

  “To find your worthless fanny and drag you back to where you belong.”

  Perry watched the exchange. There was more here than professional bickering. Carl’s expression softened. “I have to do this, Janet. I can’t explain it, but I have to go back up there.”

  For a moment, Perry thought Janet was going to scream. Instead, she lowered herself, mumbled something, then said, “If you go, I go.”

  “I can’t allow that,” Carl objected.

  “You can’t stop it. I outrank you.”

  There was silence.

  Jack broke in. “Isn’t this sweet? It’s like a family reunion.”

  “Back up the mountain,” Carl decided. “We’ll have to hike it—”

  “No,” Zeisler said. “Not up. Over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We need to get to the dam. Can you get us there?”

  “Sure,” Carl said. “But not directly. We’ll have to go back to the base of the mountain and take a service road back up. But that will only just get us to the foot of the dam.”

  “That will be close enough,” Zeisler said.

  “Going to the bottom of the mountain might be good,” Perry added. “It will look as if we’re being good evictees and leaving.”

  “It will be dark by the time we make the circuit,” Carl said.

  “Better yet,” Zeisler said. “Now, can we stop wasting time?”

  “Not yet.” Perry cocked his head toward Carl. “I call the shots. Can you live with that?”

  “Why should . . .” Carl began.

  Perry stared.

  Carl nodded. “I can live with that—for now.”

  Perry caught Janet’s eyes.

  “You know, we’ll be unemployed before this is over, don’t you, Carl?” she asked.

  “I know.”

  She brushed some dirt from her uniform. “I guess someone needs to provide some common sense to this mess. Let’s go.”

  As the cars moved back onto the road, Perry prayed he had made a good choice.

  Chapter17

  “That should do it.” Jack had just returned from parking the Hummer behind a line of trees off the service path to the dam. Carl was with him, having followed the larger vehicle in his Ford. “It’s the best we’re going to do here. We can’t eradicate all the tracks. If someone is tracking us they should be able to find our parking place without much trouble.”

  Perry was slipping a backpack over his shoulders. Gleason wore one, as well. Jack reached for his. “At least it will be difficult to see from the air.”

  “Had I known that we would be hiding from armed men,” Gleason said, “I would have brought some camouflage netting.”

  “Judging by the weight of these packs, I assumed you had brought everything you could find,” Jack quipped.

  “Perry said to be prepared for anything. That’s a hard order to fill,” Gleason said. “If the pack is too heavy, maybe Deputy Janet will carry it for you.”

  Perry smiled at Carl and Janet, who appeared puzzled. “Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re like this all the time. Believe it or not, they’re the best of friends.”

  “I can see that.” Janet’s sarcasm was obvious.

  Gleason handed Perry and Jack dark brown vests. Perry’s felt a little heavy. “These are safari vests,” Gleason explained. “Each of you has a small knife, a handheld computer for taking notes, a compact walkie-talkie, a couple of PowerBars in case you need an energy boost, and a few other odds and ends. I only have three vests. I didn’t know we’d be picking up company along the way.”

  “These will do.” Perry slipped into his vest, then turned his attention to Zeisler. “I think it’s time you tell us what to expect.”

  Zeisler had been standing by himself, examining the curved concrete dam a hundred yards away. “I told you. We’re going to hike up the old construction trail. There’s one on either side of the spillway. I imagine it’s overgrown, so it will be tough going.”

  “I mean, it’s time to tell us what to expect when we get to the top of the dam. I don’t like working blind.”

  “Nothing doing, Perry. You’re going to have to trust me. Your father did. Now, are we going to stand around jawing, or are you going to lead us up the grade?”

  Perry looked at Jack, who just shrugged.

  Once again Perry took in his surroundings. There was a wild beauty to it. Mountain forest split by a gorge where a river once ran through the valley. Now just a dry riverbed remained. Before him loomed the curved surface of the concrete dam. It seemed to reach to the sky. Perry knew it wasn’t a large dam, not by today’s standards. It was modest in size and in construction. As an engineer, he appreciated the beauty of the design, but it would never be a tourist spot like Hoover Dam, many miles south of them.

  “Your dad had a hand in this,” Zeisler said. “Dams weren’t his forte, and he was opposed to its construction. He couldn’t prevent it, but he told me he’d leave his mark on it. It’s a mark that only he and I know—and one you’re about to learn.”

  Carl stepped closer. “This is an uphill hike, old man. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “I’m up to it,” Zeisler snapped, “and if you call me old man again, I’ll show you what I’m up to doing. Got that, Deputy?”

  “No offense meant, Dr. Zeisler,” Carl said. “I just spent the night tromping around in this forest, and it wore me out.”

  “Soon you will forget all about that—assuming we don’t stand around here twiddling our
thumbs until Finn what’s-his-name and his boys show up.”

  “Which way?” Perry asked.

  Zeisler pointed to his right. “It should be about fifteen yards into the woods. From there it’s all uphill.”

  “I’ll take the lead,” Perry said and walked into the woods.

  “It has to be here somewhere,” Finn insisted. He, Colonel Lloyd, and his men stood along the north bank of the lake. Colonel Lloyd, known to his subordinates as Colonel Ryan Dean, directed his men to fan out. The three men held metal detectors that they swung back and forth with metronome precision. Their weapons hung from straps over their shoulders.

  “Thirty-plus years can disguise a location pretty good,” Dean said.

  “They disguised it before they left. Three decades of forest growth has just added to the problem.” Finn watched the men. They had been in a sour mood since their run-in with Sachs and his men. They were itching for a fight, not the tedious task they had been ordered to do.

  “If I may ask, sir, exactly what are we looking for?”

  “What did your briefing say?” Finn fired back.

  “Not much, sir. We were to arrive at this site and secure it. We were to stay out of sight, except to run off anyone who comes here.”

  “They didn’t tell you why?” Finn knew the answer, because he was the one who had called for the special team. Still, he wanted to know if his orders had been followed.

  “No, sir. We go where we’re told, when we’re told, and do what we’re ordered to do without question.”

  Finn nodded. Very few people knew of the military’s special domestic enforcement team. They came from the various branches of the military. Each had been tested in adverse situations; their trustworthiness and unquestioning loyalty had been proven. Unlike the rest of the military, they answered to a special department of the Pentagon that now worked in conjunction with the Department of Homeland Security. Finn himself had served in the role now held by Colonel Dean. He was recruited out from the Zero Detection Service, or ZEDS as they called themselves. The name was purposefully innocuous.

  “Shortly before you were ordered to this location,” Finn explained, “an NSA satellite picked up an unidentifiable signal from this location. As you know, the National Security Agency monitors all broadcast mediums in the country and around the world. That triggered some questions. The NSA had a record of events that happened here three decades ago. Those records matched with secret military intelligence from the same period. That information was passed on to me. I ordered you here.”

  “Yes, sir. Proud to be of service, sir.”

  Good man, Finn thought. Dean had asked his question, but he wouldn’t push for an answer. “I’ve read the file, Colonel, and I don’t believe it myself. If it wasn’t buried so deep in the files and if the signal hadn’t been real, I’d say that someone was playing a joke on us. This is going to be one of those seeing-is-believing operations.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “To answer your question, Colonel, we’re looking for a large metal hatch, about the size of a manhole cover. We are to find it, open it, and make entrance.”

  “Entrance into what, sir?”

  “If the reports are to be believed, into Wonderland, Colonel. Into Wonderland.”

  “Sir!” One of the soldiers shouted. “I’ve got a hit. Something big.”

  Thirty minutes later, Finn stood over a large, round, metal hatch. A two-key lock secured the hasp. A thick plastic jacket coated the lock.

  “Knife.” Finn held out his hand. Dean handed him the military version of a folding utility knife. Finn opened the four-inch blade, squatted over the lock, and cut away the protective plastic covering. He closed the knife and tossed it back to Dean, who caught it with one hand.

  Finn removed two keys from his vest and inserted them in the lock. He twisted them and the lock sprung. Finn stood and took a step back. “Colonel, choose a man to accompany us. The other two will remain to guard the entrance. You will be with me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tuttle, you’re with me,” the colonel said.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Finn knew the other men were disappointed. They were part of this group because they loved to be where the action was. They were also part of the group because they never questioned orders.

  He peered down the dark hole. “We’ll be out of radio contact. Hold the fort until we get back.”

  “Will do, sir,” one of the men said.

  “Shall we?” Finn asked Colonel Dean.

  “I’ll take point,” Dean said. “Tuttle, you’re on my six. You can follow Tuttle, sir.” Dean approached the opening, sat on the ground, and dangled his legs in the black maw of the tunnel. “Rock and roll, gentlemen.”

  Perry set a steady pace, trying to conserve his energy, as well as not driving Zeisler to a heart attack. He could hear the man’s labored breathing behind him, but the old electrical engineer never complained.

  “Pretty steep grade,” Perry said.

  “It’s not bad. If you knew the other way, you’d be thanking me.”

  “What other way?”

  “Trust me, it’s not pleasant.”

  Perry shook his head. Zeisler loved his secrets. Perry would have preferred spending some time learning all there was to learn before proceeding, but Zeisler controlled the information. Perry knew a few things, but Zeisler knew it all, and he wasn’t talking. It was his ace in the hole, Perry figured. Perhaps the older man feared Perry leaving him behind if he divulged everything.

  “If you need a rest, just let me know,” Perry said.

  “If you stop, I’ll climb right over you.”

  “Okay, okay, you win.” Perry focused on placing one booted foot in front of the other, making certain that he didn’t slip on the bed of pine needles. The path was clear. Trees decades younger than those to either side broke through what had once been a gravel trail.

  The air was thin, and Perry was sucking deeply to keep enough oxygen in his blood to feed his demanding muscles. He had no idea how Zeisler was doing it. He listened to his heartbeat, to the sound of boots on dirt, gravel, and pine needles, to the songs of birds in distant trees, of wind dancing around boughs. Focus was the key. Focus kept him going, kept him on the trail, and kept him from worrying about the father he had left in MICU.

  Perry was relieved when they reached the top of the trail. He stopped behind a tree. Before him was the mirror smooth surface of Lake Lloyd, blue and cool, and dressed in reflected rays of the setting sun. Above, the cyan sky had darkened, signaling the approaching blanket of night.

  “Why are you stopping?” Zeisler demanded.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, there are men out there with guns and poor attitudes. I want to be sure they’re not hovering around.”

  “They’ll be on the north side of the lake,” Zeisler said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because, as far as they know, that’s the only way in.”

  “In to what?” Carl asked. “I’m getting sick of this I’ve-got-a-secret game.”

  “You know the way back down, Deputy,” Zeisler said.

  “Can you believe this guy?” Carl told Perry.

  “I have to.”

  “We gonna yak or are we going to go? Or do you want GI Joe to get there before us?” Zeisler argued.

  “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what your plan is.” Perry sat on the ground. The others followed suit, except Zeisler who mumbled something Perry was certain he didn’t want to hear.

  Zeisler gave in. “Okay. I’ll tell you this much. We have the dam to our left and the lake in front of us, right?”

  “That’s pretty obvious,” Jack said.

  “Yes, but what isn’t obvious is where we’re going. We’re going down into the dam.”

  There was silence.

  “Into the dam?” Perry asked.

  “You know, for engineers, you guys are pretty dense. What have you noticed about this dam?”
/>   “What’s to notice?” Gleason said. “It’s a standard concrete dam.”

  Zeisler rubbed his eyes. “I’m not a patient man, so let me just school you a little. How much water do you see pouring down the spillway?”

  “Almost none,” Perry said.

  “That’s right. This dam doesn’t provide hydroelectric power. All it does is hold water back.”

  “But dams are also built to prevent flooding or to create a reservoir for water needs. Some were built to power saw-mills,” Jack said.

  “True enough, but do you see a sawmill?”

  “Not now, but that doesn’t mean that there never was one,” Jack said.

  Perry interrupted. “What’s your point, Dr. Zeisler?”

  “There is no water running to feed farmland, or a power plant, or a sawmill, or to control flooding. You did the research. Did this lake show up on any maps?”

  “Just an old privately commissioned map,” Gleason said.

  “This dam and this lake are meant to be a subtle secret. Over the years, security has become nonexistent. As long

  as trespassers are limited to a few intrepid fishermen, there was nothing to worry about. But something has happened. That’s why there are armed men around.”

  “If this place is such a big secret, then why isn’t it crawling with military?” Janet asked.

  “Because that would bring about the opposite effect,” Zeisler explained. “If scores of military vehicles were rumbling around, it would attract attention and the media. No, fewer is better.”

  “Get back to the dam,” Carl said. “If it’s not here for all the usual reasons, then why is it here at all?”

  “It’s here not because of the water it holds, but because of the secret it hides, the secret that killed my friends and is killing your father, Perry.”

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Jack said, “but I’ve been sitting on this question for some time. Why haven’t you been affected?”

  “I’m not sure,” Zeisler answered. “But I think it wants me alive.”

  “It?” Perry said.

  “Yeah. It.” Zeisler looked at the dam. “We need to go. Wasting time is not an option.”

 

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